The beetle bug and the worm, it turned out pleasant for them.

Beetle Bug in our garden.

beetle bug

After opening the bathroom drawer up on the Q-Tips box was a large beetle bug. I think we both were surprised. I swooped it up to the ground and got my two sleeping kitty girls. I know this is their favorite pass time going after bugs that enter the house. I am guilty because I’m prejudice on how cats think over the needs of this bug.

As the two girls altered to attention and moved towards the bug it was not a long chase. Seems beetle turned around and pinched one of the girls. End of their engagement. Yet over the week the two kitties did keep beetle bug in the bathroom.

Youngest son and I did some cleaning in the bathroom and did not find beetle bug. So, I put a small plastic container in the bathroom in case the bug showed up.

Beetle bug was there one day in the bottom closet and seemed to be waiting for me. Husband and I caught the bug and put the creature outside on the grass near the rosemary bush.

Hungry as if the beetle bug came upon the biggest smorgasbord in town. Embracing a purple anarchy flower, grass and leaves, this beetle bug’s feast began. Beautiful little beetle bug is now free.

worm

While walking around the block. A break from the rain. I saw a worm halfway across the cement walkway. Knowing about other people walking, dogs and wild things, it seemed like this little creation did not have much of a chance of survival. I often find rolled up ones dried from the heat.

I tried to gently hold the little worm that was very long. He was slimy, grey, and untouchable. So, I grabbed a small leaf and got him and softly put him on the earth near a bush.

The worm slowly moved with all its body’s muscles into the darkness of the earth. Only leaving the tip of a tail. I smiled and touched it saying loudly,

“BOOP!”

With boundless rapidity the little worm pulled a worm tail into the safety of the dark grassy earth and was gone.

Hiawatha and Dionysus

Thyrsus detail of Bacchus and Ariadne by Angelica Kauffmann (1741-1807)

I call upon Hiawatha and Dionysus

I often believe you two are the same

Friends of humanity and the earth.

As seeing the history of our earth and the waters of the earth.

As seeing nature and the growing things and vines and the wildness of this planet.

I think upon the goodness and wisdom of Hiawatha and Dionysus.

Both connected to the earth are the best ones to learn from.

As we see politically, globally, and as human beings we need to listen to them now more than ever.

They teach me to listen to nature, that magic is a gift, and our friends are closer than we realize.

The Dionysian Thyrsus is a powerful compelling campaign addressing the wonder of life and the earth and harmony.

It is all within us and outside of us.

Hiawatha speaks to the wind and in our souls of the equality of all things from minerals in rocks and out towards the star beings.

Balance and harmony, creativity and weaving our stories, hope and timeless ambition to run with the wildness of our natures.

Lady bugs to bear, mountain lions to the praying mantis.

Trees and rivers, rain, and thunder.

Love making to eating and dancing.

Hiawatha’s departure: Hiawatha sails Westward into the sunset

Ritual Interlude: Crone’s Crowning.

Watercolor illustrations of the Praying Mantis as symbolism in my art holds meaning in a refreshing way. It is meant to be humorous, provocative, and honest. I have practiced the Crone’s Crowning ritual for years now. It is seeing death on the same terms as transformation. One and the same, yet the idea of transformation is easier to deal with than death.

I have been working on this project for some time and waited until the summer solstice to complete. This ritual is part of the native American medicine wheel of nature.

It is helpful in times of change, pain, and grieving. All about transformation and death, yes, we are all going through a type of world initiation, making this small offering to help others seems a creative opportunity to share from the inside out. Where the feminine and nature come tighter together to heal.

It is almost as if humanity is collectively going through a civil war between the ego and the psyche, science and religion, common sense, and emotionalism.

As I watch big black bumble bees take nectar from the praying mantis tree of purple and green… I can see that nature is consistent and dependable.

I look out the computer room window, my cave. and wonder and talk with the crones from the four directions.

East Crone

Crones of The East

those that sing

the songs of the transforming

The songs of the dying

And songs of the universe.

South Crone

Crones of The South

those that stir the caldron

Of change

That set the feast

For the transforming

And dying.

West Crone

Crones of The West

those that open the door

To the transforming

And the dying

And shed the tears of letting go.

North Crone

Crones of The North

those who wait in the realm of the transforming

The realm of the dying.

Silently helping with smiling faces.

Inspired by Susun S. Weed

Book: Menopausal Years, The Wise Woman Way

Alternative Approaches for Women 30 – 90

Spirals and circle eights

Cowardice is the lack of courage to face danger, difficulty, opposition, and pain. I think we all have times when we experience this type of behavior. I admire others, and myself, who stand tall and cross the line, regardless. Yet, there are times when cowardice can be a dark projection from others. I think every time we become aware of these feelings we should stop and listen to them. Not do what others say we should do, but what we feel is the right thing to do for us.

I was in pain. My head ached. I knew my blood pressure was high. I was hot too. Early in the morning I went to the pool. I stood up to my waist in the cool water. I viewed rounded water ripples radiating out from me. The water hit the side of the pool, across from me, and the ripples radiated back to me. What a simple thing to notice this morning. At one time the two ripples rippled and met together, a joining. I am sure there is a mathematical equation that oldest son might know, yet I am happy to just see it as something predictable but unique.

I viewed a dragonfly flying circle eights over me and then around the pool. Spirals and circle eights over and over again are the dance of the single dragonfly. Then quickly, in the wink of an eye, the dragonfly touched the water with a slight pinch. The dragonfly took just enough water, in moderation, as not to fall into the water. How delicate and beautiful is the dragonfly. Dragonfly did this many times as it danced around the pool.

Even though my head was still in pain, I was instantly refreshed when I dived into the cold water, my cowardice feeling, to not dive into the pool, was overtaken by my own will to feel better. Then as I swam to the other end of the pool, I saw a large dark moth floating dead on the water.

I intuitively still hear the lessons that nature whispers in my heart and especially at that moment. It is time for me to be as the moderate dragonfly. Avoiding the life of an overindulging black moth. There was a time when overindulgence was fun and exciting. Now I shall try to dance spirals and circle eights. A slight pinch or sweet sips from life will have to do.

Follow Me

The Cambion… Nimue herself and Merlin all are “denizens of another reality.” How can we humans begin to understand them. Why do we make them evil? Instead, I will enjoy their stories and not judge them. Life is just that, a mystery… like the denizens.

Walking in the early morning is a new part of my routine. I usually walk in the evening because I love capturing the night sky. Today, I had a talk with a local squirrel! The olive tree in front of my house was the perfect place for an official squirrel greeting, First, squirrel dashed in front of me.

Then half up the olive tree turned round looking straight into my eyes. The squirrel’s eyes are a dark black brown with a reflective glimmering. A squirrel moves like a humming bird…deliberate movement, fast then still and focused.

The squirrel moving away, then came back to look closely into my eyes again! About three feet between us was the distance we shared. This lasted about ten minutes.

I mumbled conversation as the squirrel responded with a deep vibrating sound from within its flexible body, while showing off its gorgeous tail! I would like to think; I am still a bit on the wild side too. I have let myself become too damn domesticated over the years. It is nice to know that I have not lost my touch with nature!

This magic, also taught by Merlin the Magician, helps me to appreciate my little wild connection. I feel that nature still knows my name, as it did when I was young!

Sunday Random pick…Mysterium Coniunctionis

I looked over. A book was yelling at me to take it and open it up. I did not want to do it. I did it. I randomly did what it desired… for me…to see…

Wild Purple Thistle watercolor by Hudley

“This investigation was rounded out by the Mysterium Coniunctionis, in which I once again took up the problem of the transference, but primarily followed my original intention of representing the whole range of alchemy as a kind of psychology of alchemy, or as an alchemical basis for depth psychology.

In Mysterium Coniunctionis my psychology was at last given its place in reality and established upon its historical foundations. Thus my task was finished, my work done, and now it can stand. The moment I touched bottom, I reached the bounds of scientific understanding, the transcendental, the nature of the archetype per se, concerning which no further scientific statements can be made. ”
Pg. 221, Memories, Dreams, Reflections , C. G. Jung.

Suicide Squirrels

Bless them wild suicide squirrels they got a death wish. I see them dance the Distortion Dance of Death.

Spring is so sweet today. The air honeyed with nectar and the birds are singing. Life can be heavenly, but I never lose sight of the shadow. It is important to keep goodness and our shadows at check, or in balance. A clever way for our soul. You know the story of the brightest light casting the greatest shadow.

Today I am impressed to hear the music of the wild thyme herb growing. Blossoms are small and delicate. It casts a shadow too and hangs best under one dark shadow this morning.

But…

Have you seen the suicide squirrels? Crazy animals that run across the street. They have a big shadow going on in them as daredevils galore.

These crazy squirrels race across the street not looking where they are going. They zoom fast over the road right in front of cars.

I slow down in my car and honk and yell trying to save their life. Jerks in cars don’t care and run them right over. A real hit and run. I stay to watch the Distortion Dance of Death.

Them crazy suicide squirrels. I stay and take care of their final wishes. I always take time to bless ’em and put them in a bag after they die. It is always quick.

A song by Stan Kenton called Painted Rhythm reminds me of them wild beasts, them suicide squirrels. They just don’t listen to me.

I scream,

“Get off the street !!”

The suicide squirrels are damn independent, wild, and organized animals… but they have a strange shadow side. A death wish.

Leaping times of resistance and change …

In the Creative Process:

“Make your obstructions or limitations productive by stimulating greater intensity of thought and a deeper sense of spiritual freedom”

~ The William Blake Tarot Cards

You got the look…

A gift last year,

this Orchid fell into hibernation throughout the hot summer.

I watered it religiously….

thinking it dead….

surprised when it came to life again this autumn.

Now four blossoms ….

a gift even sweeter then before!

Seldom Forgotten

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“1940 is the year when we approach the meridian of the first star in Aquarius. It is the premonitory earthquake of the New Age.” We see how Jung considered earthly occurrences in a cosmic context, with an eye toward the approach of the Age of Aquarius, which was supposed to come after the Age of Pisces in the global calendar. This fact, differently interpreted by the various esoteric groups, was frequently connected with an “age of enlightenment” and great steps forward in spiritual progress. But it is not seldom forgotten that spiritual maturity carries the price of great suffering and severe trials. As Jung was certainly clearly aware of this aspect…” Pg. 333-334, The Second World War, Jung: A biography.

New Age, Age of Aquarius and “age of enlightenment” always put a little fear in me. At this time of the year the dead whisper their stories through dreams, books and biographies. This Sunday I pulled my random book. I started reading randomly. The above quote from Carl Jung’s biography pulled at me. Directly pulling at reflections and meditations of the day.

After an early meditation outside near the bomb shelter; small rough golden and dark green leaves falling from the Cyprus tree onto my head, then down to my lap. Looking up I saw a small song bird right above me on a branch chirping and giving itself a cleaning. I was focused on it. The coolness in the air calmed me as I looked up away further to see another bird flying. A white bird; a seagull or maybe an owl. It was flying South West. A large bright bird highlighted by the rising sun. In my wonder I then looked down to see that the little song bird had left a white bird poop on my lap.

“Nasty little bird…I think I get the hint!!”

I got up and walked towards the house. Both female cats disturbed by my movement, as they had found a temporary warm home near my legs and feet.